One Month to Live
by Mr. Invincible
Summary: "One month," she says, willing her voice not to crack. "Be with me for one month. We can pretend everything is normal, that nothing has changed." Knowing she has limited time left to live, Annabeth Jackson implores her husband to wait for divorce. She wants one more chance to fall in love with him again. Just one month. AU. Rated T for angst, tragedy, and character death.


**Another idea that popped into my head after reading a story in a different fandom.**

**This will be a one-shot. And an AU…meaning, there will be some OoCness. Warning: angsty, tragedy, character death.**

**This is also my first time experimenting with present tense. Hopefully that doesn't deter from the story.**

**Disclaimer: PJO and its characters belong to Rick Riordan.**

**Cover image belongs to SmarsPD on Deviantart.**

* * *

Annabeth squints as she stares at the empty part bed next to her, her hands blindly feeling the other side of the bed. Her hand grasps the empty white sheets before falling back down. She wills herself not to cry, but the silent tears began to well up in her eyes.

It was five o'clock in the morning and her husband had yet to return from his alleged office party. She isn't a clingy wife, but this isn't a one-time occurrence. This had been continuing for the past six months; Percy would return home well after godly hours, silently slipping into bed without removing his suit.

He would keep his back turned to her, not giving the usual kiss he used to at the beginning of their marriage. The couple had been married for two years, straight out of college as sweethearts. But the honeymoon phase had ended within a year before Percy turned to these new ways.

Annabeth trusted him however. He was her husband, meant to be with her through health and illness; they had made vows. But, Annabeth was not gullible. She knew when Percy came home late the second night with the smell of an unfamiliar perfume mixed with his cologne that he was lost to her.

Yet, she always did her best not to show her hurt feelings. Every couple went through their ups and downs, right?

Annabeth hears the noise of her front door open, the creaking noise of the opening door ringing throughout the apartment. She quickly turns to face the window as the door to their bedroom opens. He walks in silently with his head hung low, his hair disheveled, and his tie askew.

She can feel his eyes trained on her, but rather than getting in like he normally did, he walks back to the door, pausing momentarily before exiting the room. Annabeth closes her eyes, her lip now trembling, a cough racking through her body as she shivers and pulls up the blankets.

* * *

When she wakes up two hours later, she finds a note addressed to her. Annabeth's fingers shake as she gently picks up the paper by the edge. In a quick, messy scrawl, the writer had written a message in a hurry:

_We need to talk tonight. ~Percy_

* * *

Annabeth hurries home from work that day with a bag of groceries in her hand. After entering the apartment, she rushes into the kitchen, turning on the stove immediately.

She begins boiling the water and heating the sauce before straining the spaghetti. Her mind tells her to focus solely on the process of cooking and not on what was to come later that evening.

An accidental touch of the pot burns her skin, causing the red to appear immediately. Annabeth quickly runs the burn under a stream of cold water from the sink faucet. Putting the boiling water in simmering mode, she absent mindedly begins cutting the chicken when her mind wanders off to earlier days.

* * *

"_Annabeth," Percy began, "I was thinking."_

"_Yes?" she replied, with a soft smile on her face, encouraging him to continue, "What is it Percy?"_

_He stared at the ground, one foot rubbing against the other almost shyly, "We've been dating for two and half years now, known each other for four. I know it's too early…Actually, forget it. Forget that I said anything."_

"_Percy," Annabeth's smile turned into more of a frown, "You can't just do that. Tell me." She grabbed his arm, pulling him closer to her._

"_We're graduating in two months, and…" Percy took a deep breath, "I was thinking about what happens next, after we graduate. I have all these things that I want to, but thing was constant. You."_

_Annabeth didn't say anything, knowing that he had more to say._

"_Truth is that I love you. Wherever I may be in fifty years from now, I would like to see you by my side. You will always be by my side. Annabeth, I want you to marry me."_

* * *

Annabeth smiles fondly as she remembers that day. She had accepted of course, the ring coming into the picture later. But here they are, two years later, things changing significantly.

She is startled out of her reverie by the sound of the door opening again. Her good mood vanishes immediately but does her best to keep the smile on her face.

"Percy, honey, is that you?"

Percy walks in to the kitchen sporting a grim look on his face. "Who else would it be?" he asks in a disgruntled manner. He glances around the kitchen slightly surprised to see his wife cooking, "You're making dinner?"

"It's been so long since we've had a day to ourselves and sat down and eaten as a family. I thought it'd be a nice change," she replies, cautious of her husband's reaction.

He doesn't say anything as he picks up the briefcase he had and walks to their bedroom. She hears the sound of the shower running. Annabeth uses this time to quickly clear away the cooking utensils and set up the table.

An unexpected bout of coughing takes control of her body again. She grips on tightly to the wooden table with her hand to support herself as she coughs into her sleeve.

* * *

Dinner passes quietly as Annabeth attempts to exchange pleasantries, but Percy is in no mood to do so.

"Annabeth," he begins once the plates are cleared away. He cuts straight to the point, "It's only fair that I tell you now. I've been seeing another woman, Rachel Dare."

Annabeth already knew this of course. The girl had had the nerve to call their house number many times before, that too at unearthly hours. But it never prevented Percy from answering them. He would always leave the room to go out to the balcony to answer them, claiming they were for office work.

"Rachel and I…" he pauses once again, contemplating how to phrase the next statement. "We are planning to get married. You and I, we've been together six years now, and you have to admit that our relation isn't the same as it was before. We've grown out of love, which is common enough, so why bother continuing with a lie? Something that doesn't exist anymore. There's no need to prolong it."

"I…" Annabeth begins, her voice quavering, as the coughing begins again.

Percy disregards her, "Look. Let's make this quick. You and I can get our divorce and then part our ways peacefully. No need to make this a big fuss. I have the papers in my briefcase. I'll leave them on the counter for you to sign. I'll be staying with Rachel till then, but just mail them to the address I give you."

"Percy, look…"

"Annabeth, listen. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. I don't want to be a jerk. I'm not trying to be mean. Trying to salvage an already dead marriage? It's not worth it. It's time for both of us to live our lives without depending on each other. I don't hate you. I just don't love you anymore."

Annabeth feels the words sting her like she has been slapped.

_I just don't love you anymore._ The phrase repeats itself over and over again in her head.

Percy stands up to leave when Annabeth speaks up, "Wait, I have one request." Her gray eyes meet his sea green ones; she tries hard not to look away from the eyes she fell in love with.

"Just one small request," she says. But, she knows it's a lie. It's not a small request. In fact, it's selfish of her to even be asking. He had made it clear, had he not, that he is no longer interested in any connections with her? But, this is her only chance to ask.

After all, it will only be for the time-being. She wants him to be happy, and if Rachel makes him happy, so be it. Just a month of her own happiness makes Annabeth ask the next question.

"One month," she says, willing her voice not to crack. "Be with me for one month. We can pretend everything is normal, that nothing has changed. We will be a regular married couple. We can tie up all loose ends at the end of the month. You can live with Rachel, get married, and lead your life. I promise I won't cause issues. But please Percy, for me, give me just one month of your time."

Percy looks at her quizzically. One month won't matter? Will it? Rachel can understand. Besides, he's surprised with Annabeth's reaction. He was expecting a torrent of fury, but here she was, a broken shell of sorts. A hollow shell just asking for one month of his time.

"Fine, just one month."

That night, for the first time in months, the two share a bed. Of course, not without a call to Rachel first.

* * *

The first week proceeds as expected.

Percy does as Annabeth hoped. They eat dinner together every night like a real family. Annabeth cooks Percy's favorite dishes from when they were engaged, but conversations are still tense. Percy gives her curt, one word answers about his day, not prompting anything of his own.

"How was your day, honey?"

"Fine."

Annabeth usually stops trying after day four, just feeling blessed that at least they are being civilized, sharing the same bed as they had done before. Even if their eye contact is minimal, and Percy sees Rachel during the day, their lives continue normally without any bickering. It is like they are in the midst of a temporary fight.

It is like being in the eye of a hurricane, all quiet, but the storm waiting to rage on as soon as the four week time is up.

The second week, the dynamic changes slightly as Percy begins to open up more. They hold actually conversations at the dinner table. He talks about work; Annabeth talks about work. He tells her about the stress load that the new project in Chicago is causing. The Friday of week two, he offers to take her out to her favorite Greek restaurant. She's surprised that he even remembers.

"I thought we might do a little something for a change. Don't cook tonight," he gives her that mischievous grin that allured her when they had first met.

But still, things have not returned to the previous state. He sleeps on one edge of the bed, her the other.

Week three is different from the first two. They have crossed the halfway point. But Annabeth doesn't let this get to her head. She only has two more weeks with her husband till he's lost to another woman.

She surprises him with a birthday cake that she bakes herself, blue cake of course. The two take a stroll in the park that evening. Annabeth finds the chilly breeze get to her as she begins coughing, shivering to stay warm. Percy takes notice of this, shrugging off his jacket and proffers it to his wife.

She nods graciously but continues coughing. He expresses concern, but she pushes it away. Not now, she can't get too attached. He cannot get too attached. But it was all a paradox. Isn't that what she wants? For him to notice her?

Percy gets her an ice cream cone; a simple vanilla just like Annabeth prefers it. They sit quietly on one of the benches of Central Park when Percy brings up a memory.

"Remember when we had our first date here?" he asks, breathlessly as he looks around in wonder.

"Yeah," she nods in response, remembering that fall day when he had taken her out to the zoo.

And then, unexpectedly, he says, "I miss those days. Those were good days." Annabeth agrees silently, afraid to voice it out loud.

And to add even more surprise to the night, Percy takes a small box out of his pocket.

"It might be my birthday, but you forgot that it's our anniversary too," he hands her the gray box. He nods once, encouraging her to open it. She looks scared, like a deer caught in headlights.

She opens the box and finds a sterling silver chain with an owl penchant attached to the end. She gasps in, speechless.

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, "I know things have been rocky, but this your special day too. I thought you might like it."

She doesn't reply, settling for hugging instead to convey her feelings, "Thank you. It's perfect."

He puts the necklace around her neck, gently pushing back the hair to kiss her on the nape of her neck. It sends a shiver down her spine. That night they sleep closer together, his arm wrapping around her body protectively.

And so week three draws to an end. She notices that the scent of perfume hasn't made an appearance in a week.

* * *

But then, everything changes again, making things seem even more pressing than before. She had had two months. One month with Percy, and an additional month to clear things up before it all ended. But now, it's too late.

"Mrs. Jackson, we're sorry."

"No, you can't be serious. This is a joke," she sees the expression on his face. "But you promised. You said…" a cough breaks through her body as she speaks, unable to finish.

"It has advanced beyond what we expected. The date has been moved up. It could happen any week now. We're truly really sorry, Mrs. Jackson."

* * *

"Percy?" Annabeth says tentatively as he comes home later that night.

He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up, "Yeah."

"I was thinking. I know it's too much to ask… We should go on one last vacation. To Montauk. I want to see it one last time, before…"

Silence answers her as Percy doesn't reply.

Annabeth bites her lip, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Forget that I—"

"No, it's fine. We can go this weekend, maybe a little longer if I can a few days after work."

"Really?" Annabeth smiles at him wanly.

"Yeah," he gives her a small grin before leaving to go take a shower.

* * *

Two days later, she finds herself in front of the Atlantic Ocean, the fierce waves rolling and thunder crashing overhead. Percy walks over to stand beside her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asks, paying attention to the sunset behind the storm. Another scene of beauty in the midst of something so dangerous. He puts an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer to his side. She rests her head on his shoulder, comfort amongst the roiling clouds up above.

They sit there in their content, and Annabeth wonders if this is how it should have been. If they were to grow old together, had children, grandchildren even. But she doesn't allow her thoughts to get so far. This is here and now. And she is to be content with whatever last moments she gets to spend with Percy.

This routine continues the next day, this time Percy packing a picnic dinner for them to enjoy on this quiet day. The ocean appears to be in rest, not a single wave. Annabeth's heart beats faster and faster until it just stops…smoothing out like the waves.

Percy leans over to kiss her on the cheek, something he hasn't done since their college days. He lays her head on his lap as she plays with his untamable hair. She likes the feeling of running her fingers through them freely, that unruly black locks. He sighs in content, his eyes closing peacefully.

How she wishes he didn't close his eyes, his beautiful green eyes. Annabeth loves them so much, but she lets him sleep.

He tells her stories about his childhood from when his mom used to bring him to Montauk. She's heard them before but doesn't mind hearing them again. She simply wants to hear the sound of his sweet, soothing voice.

Percy occasionally catches Annabeth just staring at him with a sad smile on her face.

"What? What's wrong?" he asks immediately, using his thumb to wipe away a tear threatening to fall.

"Nothing, nothing," she replies quickly, but he doesn't buy it. "I'm just gonna miss this. That's all." She pushes away his arm, wiping the tears on her own. He doesn't say anything, nothing that it's for the best.

By the end of the third day, Percy hasn't thought about Rachel at all, completely at ease with his once familiar pattern with Annabeth. He has gotten into the routine of waking up and finding his wife making omelets. He helps out by making freshly squeezed orange juice.

Together, the two sit at the table and discuss plans for the day. But not this morning. Percy finds something off when he notices Annabeth isn't in the kitchen. She had promised him last night that they could take their sunrise jog.

Perhaps she was in the bathroom freshening up a bit. This is when he was waiting to tell her how wrong he had been. He knocks on the door of the bathroom hesitantly, "Annabeth, sweetheart. Are you done? There's something I want to say."

There is no response.

He continues, "This is about the divorce, Wise Girl. I've been thinking. I don't want to go through with it. You were right. This one month together has really opened my eyes. I know we've been distant, and the whole Rachel fiasco. But Annabeth, I made you a promise that I strayed from. It was I who had asked you to stay by my side. I was the one who left your side. I know that you've been hurt but have done your best not to show it. Annabeth, I'm sorry. Will you take me back, Wise Girl? I really love you. I'm so sorry?"

There is still no response. He pounds on the door, "Annabeth, are you in there? Can you hear me?"

He rattles the doorknob, surprised to see that it is unlocked. He steps inside, "Annabeth? Oh my god. Annabeth? ANNABETH?!"

Percy sees his wife unconscious on the ground. The floor is splattered with blood. She doesn't appear to be moving, but when he approaches her, a cough passes through her body, blood spurting out of her mouth.

He leans down quickly, shaking her. No, not now. Things were just returning to normal. Why did it happen to him?

"Anna, sweetheart, can you hear me? Annabeth, wake up, wake up, darling."

"Per—cy," a weak voice returns. This isn't the voice of his Annabeth. No, it couldn't be. "Percccy, it hurts." Anotherr cough goes through, the blood splattering on his white running shirt.

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he rubs her shoulder as he dials 911. "Don't worry. I'm calling someone. It'll be ok." But he's convincing himself more than he's convincing her.

"Percyyy…" she tries again.

"Annabeth, don't try to talk. Help's on its way. The ambulance should be here shortly. Just hold on, sweetheart. It'll be ok." He says it like it's a mantra.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"What?! How is any of this your fault!"

"No…I'm sorry…for not…telling you…" she gasps, each breath painful.

"Tell me what Annabeth? Tell me what?" But it's too late, as she slips into an unconscious state. Everything around Percy is a blur as the ER nurses hurry in with a stretcher. Everything hazy as he holds her cold, bloodles hands.

* * *

Annabeth wakes up to find an IV attached to her forearm with Percy asleep in a chair by her side. Her movement stirs him awake, his sea green eyes looking dead. She finds that his hand is clasped around hers. She wants to reach out and touch his defeated looking face but can't with the IV on her arm.

"I'm sorry," she says again.

"Why are you apologizing" his voice is low and tender as he speaks, "I was the one who wanted a divorce. It was all my goddamn fault! I should have known that you weren't feeling well when you went to bed early last night. I shouldn't have brought you here. It's my fault. A place with no doctors in a fifteen mile radius. All my damn fault!"

"Percy, it was my fault. I wanted to go to Montauk."

"This wouldn't have happened if I didn't bring up the whole divorce issue. Annabeth, sweetheart, listen. It's all going to be fine. Once this is all over, I'm calling it quits with Rachel. Just you and me like we vowed. We're going to get through this phase in life. Anna, please forgive me," he kisses her knuckles softly, his eyes closing in pain.

Annabeth manages a weak smile, "This wasn't how I planned it to end."

"End? End what? You weren't about to kill yourself, were you?" his face registers shock as he tries to make sense of her words. "This isn't because of the divorce, was it? Annabeth, please."

She watches him silently before speaking, "And then the date got moved up." He stares into her face uncomprehending and in a frown.

Annabeth frowns herself. This isn't meant to be a part of the plan. Percy was meant to be happy after all this. At least he is by her side now, but how she wishes that it was a happy smile on his face instead.

"Anna…"

"Shh…" she quiets his wretched-looking face, "Lung cancer. I was diagnosed a few months back, but it was too late. It had already progressed unnoticed too far. They said I only had a few months remaining. I wanted— I wanted you to be happy, but I was selfish, wanting to have you for one month more on my own. I just needed you by my side. You weren't supposed to see me like this. This was supposed to happen after the divorce, but the date got moved up."

"How much longer?" he whispers, staring unwaveringly into her eyes.

"I don't know. A week at most," she replies. "Don't cry, Percy, don't cry. I can't go peacefully knowing that…When I die—"

"Don't say that word," he says harshly. "Don't say it. It won't happen. No, it can't happen!" He puts his head in his hands, "This is all my fault. If I had only paid attention more. No, I was more concerned about others, forgetting what really meant the most to me. If I had only…"

"Percy, don't," she begs him. "This past month was the best month of my life."

"It should have been like that every day since our marriage," he says bitterly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Annabeth, I've just seen the records. You've been going to the doctor, using your own insurance so I wouldn't find out. You could have told me. You could have gotten a treatment, gotten better. Annabeth, we had so much planned out for us…If you had just told me!" Percy's sobs grow larger with every passing word till his words are muffled out.

Annabeth simply stares sadly at him not knowing how to comfort her husband, "I wanted you to be happy. There was nothing to be done Percy. The cancer was too far developed for anything. I wanted you to be happy with Rachel. But I got selfish, demanding one month with you. I wanted you to be here with me till the end. This one month, seeing you care for and love me again, it brought me joy, Percy. This was how our family would have been, and I was content with that vision."

Percy brought Annabeth's arm closer so that it pressed against his face, "Annabeth, don't talk like that. We can still have that family. We're only twenty-four. We can have a couple of kids, grandkids. It's just the medication talking, sweetheart. It'll all get better. You'll get better, for me, won't you, Wise Girl?"

"It was supposed to be next month, but the cancer, it got out of control," Annabeth coughs, the blood now staining the hospital sheets, "It got into the blood stream, the tumor started growing unchecked. You weren't supposed to see me like this. At the end of this week, we were meant to go our separate ways. Both parting in a civilized manner. You with your new life with Rachel, and me with a month left to live. You were supposed to be happy."

"You expect me to believe that, Annabeth? Really? I've noticed a lot this month, more than I've noticed the past year combined. This is how I should have paid attention! Not till the moment you're on your death bed."

"Percy, it's fine," she says tiredly. "You and Rachel can live happily."

"Annabeth, what is so hard to get? I love you. Not Rachel. But I love my wife, Annabeth Jackson."

"I love you too, Percy," Annabeth closes her eyes.

Percy stays by her side the rest of the day. Even when Annabeth sleeps, he talks to her about the future they could have had together. He brings up fond memories from their six years together. Annabeth occasionally stirs, each time giving Percy an opportunity to kiss her and proclaim his love once more.

The nurses urge him to rest, but he refuses to leave her side for even a millisecond. He doesn't even let go of her hand.

* * *

The next morning, Percy wakes up to a cold, clammy, lifeless hand. A deep chill takes his heart as the nurses rush in with the doctor. He struggles as they pull him away from the corpse, as they now referred to it as.

But he screams, shouts. He won't let go. He promises.

He will always be there for her. He won't leave her side.

* * *

The day after the funeral, Percy returns to his bed, noticing that the other side is empty. Just like all those nights Annabeth was empty alone when he was out. This how she had lived for a year, yet she never complained, all for him.

He stares at the stars above.

_You will always be by my side._

But he had lied, not keeping his promise, and this how the fates punished him. Annabeth was no longer at his side.

He grabs her pillow for comfort, smelling the fresh, lemony scent of her shampoo still on the case. "I love you, Annabeth," he whispers one more time.

* * *

**If you liked this story, I'd appreciate if you gave it a fave. As this is a one-shot, do not expect another chapter. But, I would very much be happy if I get feedback via reviews. **

**Tell me if you spot any mistakes or discrepancies. I generally publish all my stories in their first draft and don't look over them for any mistakes.**

**Tragedy/angst isn't generally my genre. Neither do I write in present tense often. Tell me how those turned out. This is also my longest published one-shot yet. Figures that it'd be angsty.**

**Anyway, please make sure to fave and review. **

**Till next time,**

**~TJ**

**P.S. I might come back and edit some parts that I think sound rushed. So, check in for that.**

**P.P.S T****hose who review get a shout-out in the next update of my other PJO story.**


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